After ten minutes, the Expedition General Waxwool approaches. He is a tall halfling, at least 60 years old. He has a bush of curly grey hair. His chest is round like a dwarf and his legs are thick although you doubt that it is all muscle. He has a breastplate and leather armor, a golden hilt short sword at his side. Walking next to him is as assistant carrying his helm and other items for the general. He walks towards you eyes up and face emotionless.
Behind him is his guard, nine halflings and a human. All of the other halfling give them a wide berth. The group is in a ready for a fight formation, eyes stern and walking with purpose.
They stop when the general is about twenty feet from you.
"Survivors of Outpost 8 and foreigners, I am Expedition General Waxwool. As per standard protocol, spells have been cast to determine the truth of your answers. Tell me your names and the recent events that led you to here and now."
You can either give detailed answers or just a statement of how much and in what manner you describe it.